Now I guess it’s payback time for all the people I scoffed at who suggested I may grow weary of making fruitcakes. I find these days that I practically have to put a gun to my head to get myself downstairs to start. Once I’ve started it’s okay, but unfortunately, my limit is now two batches a day!
Seriously, it’s all I can really do because there’s the shopping for inventory, marketing attempts (however feeble and ridiculous) and of course packaging, which is completely onerous. The other night Nicky and Taya put labels on 500 boxes and it was wonderful not to have to do it.
So I guess that tells me that 3,000 fruitcakes a year is really all that I am ever going to be able to do. However, that’s potentially 3,000 happy people, so that’s got to count positively toward some decent karma.
And there’s just the general good karma I must be creating daily as I run our home like a soup kitchen. Nicky’s girlfriend often eats here, and Luke likes to invite his friends Felix or Tyson over. The other night, after having eaten several decent meals here in a month, Felix said, “Wow! You always make good dinners.”
Today at the Superstore I was checking out with the usual: a box of Taquitos, doughnuts, a huge bag of cookies, four different types of chips, a package of pepperoni sticks and sundry other items including eight litres of milk. I said to the nice woman at the check-out, “Imagine how much money I’m going to save if my kids ever move out. They’re like locusts.”
As expected, upon arriving home with all of the stuff Luke said excitedly to Nicky, “Mom did a big shop-out, so it’s gonna be a good day!” They are 23 and 20 years of age, but one would never know it. The oven was immediately turned on, and in went the Taquitos.
Yet I would never dream of serving this type of swill to them for dinner. No, dinners are always divine creations that make everyone swoon. A typical week might be cabbage rolls, chicken chow mein, pot roast, chicken enchiladas, meat pies, Mediterranean-style fish stew and lasagna.
As well, I always like to try out new recipes so that we don’t get bored. Perhaps that’s the danger of the 3,000 fruitcakes, in that one has no leeway whatsoever for any creativity. In fact, it’s really important to make them as identical as possible or the public balks.
And really, being the egomaniac that I am, all it will take is one bit of publicity, and suddenly all talk of boredom will be forgotten. Maybe I need to float one of the dogs off in a helium balloon and call 911.